Within Ten Feet
by Anthropologicality
Summary: A collection of oneshots about our favorite Warehouse agents. / / LATEST: I ignore the officer's questions of whether I'm alright. My only concern is for my partner.
1. Competition

**I already have one of these going for another show, but I'm starting to lose inspiration for that show lately. So, late last night I was reading Warehouse 13 fanfics and wanted to write something, so I used a random word generator. These will go on pretty much indefinitely (I already have ideas for a bunch more) and will just be when I feel like it.**

**It's actually kind of hard to write fluff after that heart-wrenching finale, but at the same time, I think it was good, like medication or something. (Bad metaphor, I know.) This is something I've actually noticed in the show.**

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><p><strong>1. Competition.<strong>

They'd never really noticed, but there was sort of an ongoing competition between the two. How many artifacts one had snagged, how many times each had been Tesla'd, or, in the case of Warehouse 2, how many riddles each solved. (Pete still brought that up every so often. Myka usually ignored him.) They had an unspoken contest; something different each day.

Today, it was a game of Monopoly.

"You are so going to lose," Myka informed him as she dispensed the money. They sat across from each other at the table in the B&B, and Claudia was on one side, her arms crossed on the table with her head resting on them. "I won at this game all the time when I was a kid."

"Wrong," Pete returned. "This game requires math. And you, Miss Ophelia, are a reading person. I, on the other hand, aced all of my high school math classes."

"Ophelia?" Claudia wondered aloud. Myka glared at Pete.

Pete lifted a hand to his mouth. "That's her middle name," he said in a loud whisper (Claudia snorted), then caught Myka's eye and smirked. She couldn't help but crack a smile.

She handed Pete the last of his bright orange $500 bills and stretched her arms behind her. "Alright then." She rolled one die, and Pete rolled the other, to see who went first. Pete got a four, and Myka got a three.

"Ha-ha!" he gloated, snatching up both dice and making a show of shaking them around in his hands, then finally flamboyantly distributed them onto the table. Five. "One…two…three…four…five!" he announced, moving his little top hat five spaces, landing on Reading Railroad. "I will purchase this fine land," he said in an English accent, slapping $200 on the board, making both women laugh. Claudia, the unofficial banker for the moment, took the bills and deposited them in the bank, handing Pete the card for Reading Railroad.

"Nine!" Myka crowed when the dice hit the table. She pointed a finger at Pete's face mockingly. "Ha!" He made a face and stuck his tongue out at her. Her miniature guy on a horse was moved to Connecticut Avenue, which she bought for $120.

"Hey Claude, why don't you play?" Pete offered.

Claudia raised her head and put a hand out. "Oh, no, no, no. I've seen the way you two get with games. Not getting in the middle of that. No freaking way."

Pete shrugged and rolled his dice again. "Well, suit yourself. Come on, twelve! Come on!" He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. The dice stopped spinning and resulted in…"Two? Really?" He picked up a Chance Card. "Pay poor fee, fifteen dollars." His face fell and he stuck his lower lip out like a ten-year-old, throwing the bill in the center of the board and crossing his arms in a fake pout.

Six hours later, the game was still going. Claudia had grown bored and left somewhere around the hour-and-a-half point, and various people such as Leena, Artie, Steve and Helena had all come into the room at times. After about two hours Leena brought them chocolate chip cookies, eaten mostly by Pete, of course, but Myka took two (she insisted it was all Pete's fault she ate sugar now). The plate sat to the side of the table, discarded and covered in crumbs.

Pete was almost out of money, and Myka was reveling in her glory. She got a twelve on the dice.

_One __of __mine, __one __of __mine, __one __of __mine__…_ Pete urged her little horseman in his head. It wasn't—though, he did like that she had to put money into the Community Chest. On his turn, however, he had the back luck to land on one of Myka's properties and handed over all of his remaining money—she just _had_ to have a damned hotel on the thing, didn't she?

Myka's jaw dropped open. "I win? I win!" she cried, her eyes lighting up.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I demand a rematch," Pete replied, only half joking. "Congratulations."

Myka got up and headed into the living room. "I won!" she announced to the room at large, her hands in the air.

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><p><strong>Random <strong>**fact: ****Originally, ****I ****couldn****'****t ****decide ****who ****should ****win, ****so ****I****asked ****my ****mom ****and ****my ****brother, ****and**** they both ****said ****Pete. ****Then ****I ****started ****thinking, ****and ****in ****the ****show, ****Pete ****wins ****a ****lot ****(**_**Breakdown, **__**Buried) **_**and ****the ****only ****time ****I ****can ****remember ****Myka ****winning ****is ****when ****they ****go ****bowling ****and ****Pete****insists ****it****'****s ****because ****of ****his ****bad ****shoulder (I don't remember what episode that is).**


	2. Kitty

**2. Kitty**

They've just recovered an artifact that had control over a little girl's pet cat. They watch as the girl, happily reunited with her no-longer-evil cat, hugs it and strokes its fur.

"You know, when I was a little girl I always wanted a cat," Myka says.

Pete turns to her, surprised. "A cat?" he repeats. "Really?"

"Yeah, I wanted a little fluffy black cat ever since I can remember," she continues. "But my parents said a cat in a bookstore would only cause trouble, so I never got one."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a cat person."

"Well, I like all animals, really. I mean, I like Trai, and Pe—_Ferret_," she catches herself quickly. Pete thinks her ferret's name is Ferret and she's going to keep it that way. "I just always wanted a cat."

XXX

Three months later, it's Myka's birthday. She isn't expecting any presents (in fact, she told everybody _not_ to make a big deal about her birthday), but she should have known Pete wouldn't listen. So when he shows up in her room first thing in the morning—after waking her up at midnight already to wish her happy birthday—with a box as big as a microwave oven, with several holes in the sides, she isn't all that surprised.

He holds the box out to her. "Happy birthday, Mykes. I mean, I know I already said that earlier, but—here." She reaches out to take the box, and he adds, "Oh, be careful with it." She gives him a quizzical look and he seems to change his mind and gently sets the box on the bed. "Okay, now open it." He appears extremely excited, Myka notices.

She lifts the top flaps of the box to see the face of a tiny black kitten peering out at her, squinting and mewling at her because of the sudden light. She gasps and a smile spreads across her face. "Oh my gosh! Pete, I can't believe this!" She reaches in and scoops the kitten up. Around the cat's neck is a collar with a heart-shaped tag reading Happy Birthday, Myka. –Pete.

Cradling the kitten to her chest with one arm, she uses the other to give Pete a hug. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I knew how much it would mean to you," he responds, and she lets him go and beams at him. "So, what are you gonna name her?"

She scratches the cat between the ears and it starts purring. "Shadow," Myka decides. She shrugs. "I don't know, she just seems like a Shadow."

Pete reaches out and strokes the Shadow's head with one finger. "She is cute, isn't she." It's a statement, not a question. Shadow wriggles from Myka's arms and climbs up her shoulder, perching there like a bird. Laughing, Myka lifts her off and hugs her partner another time.

"Thanks, Pete."

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><p><strong>Yeah, I just…I don't know. The random word generator gave me 'cat.' And I saw one of my cats, Mocha, sleeping on my bed. And this came together. (And if you haven't figured it out by my username, I love black cats. I have one, named Shadow (surprise, surprise). As for those superstitions about black cats—Shadow is <em>afraid<em> of her own shadow, and I'm not kidding. She's just about the sweetest thing on earth too.)**


	3. Tune

_**Disclaimer: I can only dream of owning Warehouse 13, and I sure don't own the song either. All copyrights belong to the owners. Nothing is mine**_.

**2. Tune.**

"Hey guys?"

Claudia enters the room where the rest of the team waits, clutching the neck of her guitar. Everyone looks up at her and she sits down on the arm of the couch.

"I'm thinking of singing this tonight at the club," she explains, "But I want you to listen to it first." The others all agree, and she sets the guitar on her lap and begins strumming.

_I'll never be  
><em>_A knight in armor with a sword in hand  
><em>_Or kamikaze fighter  
><em>_Don't count on me  
><em>_To storm the barricades and take a stand  
><em>_Or hold my ground_

_You'll never see  
><em>_Any scars or wounds  
><em>_I don't walk on coals  
><em>_I won't walk on water_

_I am no prince  
><em>_I am no saint  
><em>_I am not anyone's wildest dreams  
><em>_But I will stand behind and be  
><em>_Someone to fall back on_

_Some comedy—  
><em>_You're bruised and beaten down and I'm the one  
><em>_Who's looking for a favor  
><em>_Still, honestly,  
><em>_You don't believe me but the things I have  
><em>_Are the things you need  
><em>_You look at me  
><em>_Like I don't make sense,  
><em>_Like a waste of time,  
><em>_Like it serves no purpose_

_I am no prince  
><em>_I am no saint  
><em>_And if that's what you believe you need  
><em>_You're wrong, you don't need much  
><em>_You need someone to fall back on_

_And I'll be that  
><em>_I'll take your side  
><em>_If I'm the only one  
><em>_I'm used to that  
><em>_You've been alone  
><em>_I'd rather be  
><em>_The half of us,  
><em>_Least of you,  
><em>_The best of me  
><em>_And I will be_

_I'll be your prince  
><em>_I'll be your saint  
><em>_I will go crashing through fences  
><em>_In your name  
><em>_I will, I swear  
><em>_I'll be someone to fall back on  
><em>_I will be the one who waits  
><em>_And for as long as you let me  
><em>_I will be the one you need  
><em>_I'll be someone to fall back on_

_Someone to fall back on  
><em>_One to fall back on..._

She stops and looks up. She is met by her coworkers, her family, extolling her performance and assuring her that she should absolutely sing it at the club.

"It's a cover," she admits. "Jason Robert Brown." She's always liked the song.

Claudia watches Pete and Myka to see their reactions especially. The song is how she believes they might feel from what she's heard. Myka _does_ seems pretty upset about Pete's relationship with Kelly, and Claudia hears all about it. But she knows they'll always be there for each other.

Yes, this song was sung for the two of them, even if she doubts they'll ever figure it out.

She hums the song again with a smile.

**I wanted to write this and needed a song, so I scrolled through my iPod's Warehouse 13 playlist and used pretty much the first song I stopped on that fit Pete and Myka. So even though I heard Aly Michalka's version of this in _Bandslam_ first and that's the one I know, I thought it would make more sense for Claudia to know the original. I listened to it, it's pretty good.**

**Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention this last time but the new title is from my amazing beta, DeadlyRedAlice. It's from, as you probably figured out, Pete's line in "13.1."**


	4. Beautiful

**Just a little drabble I don't particurarly like. I got this idea rewatching "Trials" when Pete loses his memory and calls Myka hot.**

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><p><strong>4. Beautiful.<strong>

Myka always feels uncomfortable when someone calls her pretty. _Especially_ Pete.

Maybe it's because of her father. Maybe it's just her nature. But compliments, particularly ones regarding her beauty, make her uneasy. Sometimes it doesn't bother her too much, but it always gets to her just a little.

Pete, though. He's made it clear that he thinks she's gorgeous. There was that whole speech he gave her when she was too scared to go out on the runway (and then he refused to talk about it), and when he lost his memory in Seattle he immediately told her "You're hot." Little-kid Pete had called her pretty too. Yet he would never admit any of it unless he was making her feel better or he didn't know who she was.

That could be partly why it bothers her so much. Pete's her partner and her best friend, and she doesn't want that jeopardized. It always throws her off-balance just a little when he acknowloges it.

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><p><strong>I find it's easier to write for Pete for some reason, even though I identify myself more with Myka. (My neighbor says I'm like Myka. She's pure Claudia.)<strong>

**Also, my friend keeps telling me I should watch Glee: is it any good? I want opinions.**


	5. Worry

**I'm back! Sorry guys. I've actually had this document for a while, New Year's I think, but I forgot about it till today. It's set during 1x06, "Burnout."**

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><p><strong>5. Worry.<strong>

After a while, I realize something.

_ The spine only affects men._

I mean, the spine boosts testosterone levels, for one thing. And back during the Middle Ages, there were no women warriors, only men. Women were seen as useless and good for nothing but cooking, cleaning and providing sons.

So not one of the spine's victims had been a woman. Jack, the gang, Officer Clark, and most recently, that man whose ex-wife just ran away. Pete and I are back to back. _Him or me?_ I wonder.

That's when it crosses my mind. Any bit of concern for myself fades and every inch of me worries for Pete, for what I know but refuse to admit I know will happen to him. My mind races with a thousand thoughts, jumbled fragments of sentences, running together, not really making any sense: _Ohmygod—Pete—stop spine—how—save Pete—spine coming—where's spine—can't lose Pete. _Ect cetera.

And suddenly I'm pushed and I lurch forward Pete's scream pierces the air, and I whip around, heart pounding in my ears, the world a blur and everything happening in fast-forward so I don't really know what's happening and it's all happening so fast and I'm saying things and I don't even know what I'm saying, something about Artie I think and—

"Agent Bering? Agent Bering?" I hear faintly.

Slowly, my eyes blink open, my brain muddled and my entire body aching. _Where's Pete? _is my first thought, and when I'm able, I voice it out loud, ignoring the officer's questions of whether I'm alright. My only concern is for my partner.

"We don't know," he tells me, and it's the last thing I need to hear. In an instant I'm on my feet again regardless of him trying to stop me. I find Rebecca and then, we find Pete.

"Myka, you've gotta do this!"

I see the crazed look in his eyes, the fear, the determination. He's just like Jack, a tiny voice in the back of my head says, willing to die to save others. I get it, and I want to do what he asks. I just can't, and I tell him so, sobbing. I will _not_ lose another partner. Ever. Not after what happened with Sam. _Especially_ not Pete—even though he's a pain, and annoying, we've grown close. I couldn't stand it if he—

I'm sobbing so hard I don't even notice Rebecca. She's brave enough to do what I can't and she takes the things from Pete's hands and clamps them to the spine. Then she pulls the lever and Pete's body jolts with electricity. I can't take it.

The spine detaches and I forget all about it, I just need to make Pete okay. He won't move and so I do CPR (those Secret Service courses actually came in handy). "Don't—leave—me!" I push on his chest with each word and then he gasps and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

He looks up at me. "You okay?" he asks, and I burst out laughing and just smile at him.

He'll be okay.


End file.
